


C’min!

by Teriana



Series: Middle Earth funny tales and Other Utter Poppycock [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, compassionate Thorin, elements of pretty pleasing violence))), lonely dodger Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 00:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14367027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teriana/pseuds/Teriana
Summary: The Battle of the Five Armies has been over with a victory of dwarves, people and elves. Sauron’s forces were soundly defeated and Thorin Oakenshield became the official King of Erebor. But people’ and elves’ negotiations about their shares with him led to nothing. Everyone seemed to give up the desperate situation but not the Elven King. He has firm intentions to get what he wants from Thorin but neither he nor even the Dwarf King suspects anything. So what might come of it, let’s see.But primarily this unusual, so called “behind-the scene” short simple story is about one’s latent fears of being spurned, and of simple solitude one always suffers of.





	C’min!

“Sauron’s café” was the biggest drinking establishment in Dale where tramps and persons with unsavory reputation gathered and played poker, raised hideous uproar being drunk as a fish and it sometimes did come to blows when someone couldn’t reach agreement.  
This café would have remained an ordinary one as well as the others those are hundreds around the Middle Earth if not the lottery which took place every Wednesday from four in the afternoon till seven in the evening. This kind of entertainment fascinated everyone who took part in it because the prizes were not usual at all.  
They say that the owner of this café was a Sauron’s henchman who built this shebang to attract people from different parts of Middle Earth making them share secrets and rumors which he then could tell to his master.  
People knew they’re being spied over, but the prizes were so enticing that everyone wanted to seek his fortune.  
So as to prizes exactly, among the most obvious things like gems and jewelry, there were such unusual things like – elven magical drink that could give super strength, Gandalf’s old staff that was still functional allegedly, and the most extraordinary stuff like – Erebor’s excursion tickets for orphans, and the One Ring.  
The last prize was a challenge one. That meant that the person who won it, was supposed to return it no later than a week after it’s been won.

It’s hard to say whether there were any lucky chaps who ever won it. Everyone tried really hard and paid money to play this luring game but the fortune was too capricious and always foisted other things on the player, like an amethyst ring or ruby gems that were not so bad of course, but would never be compared to the main prize anyhow.  
This Wednesday the lottery started as usual at four and it was at full swing, and a man in hat was announcing numbers one by one mentioning the prize the lucky person has got. This procedure was always accompanied by loud envious shouting mixed with disappointed sighs that it wasn’t the One Ring again.  
The moment the man uttered next number the door opened and inside came a tall slim man in a black cloak with a hood on his head.  
No one paid attention to him as everyone was engulfed with the game.  
The man was escorted by a bit shorter black-haired elven guy who seemed to be well known in this place because when the waitress saw him she smiled pleasantly and winked at him.  
“Hi, Eldaron! Try your fortune, win the prize!”  
The guy smiled back friendly and nearly stepped forward to the maiden but was yanked rudely backwards by his master.  
“Don’t yield to these cheap tricks, I said!” he hissed with irritation.  
Eldaron nodded sullenly and uttered.  
“Yes, Your Majesty! I will try to find some decent drink for you here.”  
His master gripped his scruff tightly.  
“And don’t call me Your Majesty, idiot! I want no one to know I’m here!” threatened he.  
Eldaron nodded obediently again.  
His resentful master freed him and the elven lad tried to soak through the crowd to the bar where a fat, sloth guy was serving the beverages for visitors.  
However the elven fellow was too incautious and accidentally encountered with the man who has won a big piece of gold two minutes ago and was drooling over it making his way hastily out.  
Our poor elf couldn’t have a moment to protest or to do anything when sudden fussy enviers encircled him and the winner, and next moment he found himself lying on the floor under the five drunken beggars who arranged a noisy scramble for the golden trophy. And then there was a real savage up-and-down fighting.  
While Eldaron tried to crawl away from all this turmoil, the golden piece was being thrown in different directions and then it flew into a man with a wooden wheel under his arm and ricocheted to the corner right to Eldaron master’s feet.  
His master quickly took the golden piece from the floor and hid it in the sleeve.  
No one noticed it because now almost all people in bar were involved in fight, hitting each other chaotically.  
At last Eldaron was lucky to escape from crazy fighters and managed to get back to his master.  
“I think we need to go! It’s not safe here, for you, my lord!” the elven guy blurted out in alarm.  
He gawked at all this madness around and wrinkled disgust.  
The loud voice of the man in hat who was the host of the lottery made an attempt to reason with enraged visitors.  
“I’ll have to make a break for you all to stop this fucking mess, otherwise I’ll have to stop the game until next time!” warned he strictly.  
Everyone hushed down immediately and froze still.  
“Good!” praised them the man and his hand took out a piece of paper from his hat. “Number one!” he said aloud.  
Still the silence continued.  
“Number one. Who’s got number one?” repeated he, looking over intrigued people who also were interested who has this number.  
“Hey, man! Why d’ya keep quiet when you have the number???” an inebriated man pushed his elbow in Eldaron’s ribs and that one shook himself in surprise when he found a small piece of paper in his hands with a curved figure One written on it.  
“Yes…” he said indecisively, looking at the man in the hat. “Looks, I’ve got that number!” he said a bit louder, feeling something really exciting seized his mind. “What have I won?” he wondered savoring something really special.  
The man in the hat grinned like a shot fox and answered.  
“You’re a very lucky pal, you know! You’ve won the tickets to Erebor for orphans!”  
“What?” a very loud stunned voice from behind broke out and every one turned his head back to the man in a black cloak.  
That one removed his cloak’s hood; and whispers spread among the dazed people.  
“King Thranduil…the Elven King…The Lord of Mirkwood…”  
Thranduil proudly approached abashed lottery man and took the colorful papers from him.  
“Let me take care of the poor children that specially need to visit dwarvish wonderland of treasures. I think it’s the best present they might never ever have in their lives!”  
The Elven King flashed his irresistible smile at the man and called his servant.  
“Eldaron! We’re leaving now! The elven orphans can’t wait to use this lucky chance that is to be realized immediately!”  
By uttering these words, Thranduil and his servant have departed.

***  
It was nearly six o’clock in the evening when Thorin decided to check the gate and went downstairs personally.  
Bofur reported about some tramps that tried to get into the mountain again for excursion.  
“A dratted idea of Balin!” blurted out annoyed Thorin enforcing the metal bolts and bars on the door and yawning suddenly. He felt too tired and was going to nap a little. The dwarf already removed himself from the gate when he heard a strange scratching outside.  
Someone’s quiet knocking at the door followed; and he had to come back to it again.  
“Who’s there?” he wondered crossly.  
“An orphan guy who extremely needs to see the splendors of the Lonely Mountain!” drawled out a very strange voice outside.  
“No excursions! We’re closed!” shouted back Thorin. “Get away!”  
There followed some fuss behind it.  
“I’m gonna cry if you won’t let me in, my lord!” the voice sounded so plaintively that Thorin gave up and opened the door.  
He saw a tall, slim figure in a black cloak wearing a hood over his face.  
The Dwarf King made a wry face.  
“Are you…” he stuttered. “Are you an orphan?” he squinted his eyes mistrustfully in attempt to make out a stranger more clearly.  
“I am!” that one answered and suddenly removed the hood; and Thorin faced a foolishly smiling phiz of the Elven King.  
“Thranduil?” the Dwarf King stepped back unexpectedly. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
The Elven King smiled fascinatingly at abashed dwarf.  
“You promised to give me something of mine that now is yours….I mean in your mountain.” He corrected himself.  
Thorin snorted resentfully.  
“I see what you are driving at. You will get nothing as I said. You may go away.”  
Thranduil blushed from such impudence.  
“You can’t banish me! I won the tickets to your damned mountain! So you’re to let me in!”  
Thorin burst into ironical laughter.  
“Since when have you become an orphan, Your Majesty?”  
Thranduil let out a squeamish snort in response.  
“I don’t give a damn, Thorin! I have the tickets!” he treaded threateningly forward.  
Thorin was holding the door firmly ready to repulse.  
“And I don’t give a damn what you’re driveling about…you… you…crazy dodger! Be gone! Or I’ll have to apply preventive measures. And I’m absolutely sure you won’t like them.” He warned strictly trying to sound very annoyed.  
“Curses on you and your damned mountain, obstinate pig!” blurted out as cross as a bear Thranduil getting to know he will get nothing from that stubborn dwarf.  
“Many thanks and farewell Your Quick-witted Majesty!” answered sarcastically the Dwarf King and laughed outright. He closed the gate before the Elven King’s nose.  
Thranduil’s fist hit the stone in anger and bitter frustration and he growled disgruntled.  
“Wait dwarf! I will get into your treasure hoard very soon. Let him laugh best who laughs last.”  
He snarled quietly.  
It looked like the dwarf went away so it was time for the Elven King to leave too.

***  
Thranduil was angry with Thorin. Really angry. So angry that it’s hard to describe.  
He flew hastily to Dale as black as the darkest cloud before the wind.  
“Don’t worry Thorin, I can come around another time. And it will be very soon!”  
Thranduil headed for the “Sauron’s café” where he got tickets today. He had a spare plan to execute but he needed to take part in this foolish lottery again.  
Eldaron told him that the prizes in this game were very worthy. And Thranduil was eager to get Gandalf’s old staff.  
And once he gets it, he will conjure Thorin into some ugly orc.  
That idea boggled his mind and elicited his frolic laughter.  
It seemed his mood’s getting better.  
Unfortunately when he finally reached the bar the lottery was over and the man with the hat was sitting at the empty bar having his beer.  
“Where’s everyone gone? I want to play the game!” demanded Thranduil smelling a rat.  
“The game is over!” cleared out the man with beer. “Come next Wednesday, pal!”  
The Elven King couldn’t bear such hob-and-nob from him, walked up and grabbed man’s lapels.  
“How dare you address me in such terms, you drunkard?!?”  
The man stared all his eyes at Thranduil and spoke out scared.  
“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty! I didn’t know it was you. Please forgive my reckless words and do have mercy on me!”  
Thranduil’s hands released the man suddenly and that one fell on the floor.  
He upped immediately and reached for his hat, shoving it to Thranduil.  
“Try your luck, Your Majesty!” he offered, and the Elven King looking at him, still cross as a bear put his hand into the hat.  
When he took out a piece of paper, there was a number 14 on it.  
He showed it to the man and that one bounced like a mad rabbit all of a sudden and even frightened Thranduil a little.  
“My god! Melkor take me! Congratulations! You’ve won the One Ring, man! OH, sorry, Your Majesty! You’ve won the One Ring, Your Majesty. The item that has never been won!” he exploded in exclamations.  
Thranduil wrinkled in strange bemusement.  
“Wait, wait!” he cleared the throat trying to understand whether he heard the man’s words right. “My servant told me that there were some lucky guys who won this ring.”  
The man’s crazy eyes were gazing back at him and he looked surprised no less.  
“No, no, Your Majesty! It’s out of the question. I’ve been running this game for so long and there was no one who ever got this precious prize.”  
Hearing the word precious Thranduil softened and his heart warmed.  
“All right, fellow. Where is this precious ring, you say? I want to have my prize now!” he said in commanding tone.  
“Yes, Your Majesty!” the man nodded and disappeared behind the door.  
He was back very quickly.  
And this time there was a small golden ring on his palm.  
Thranduil was gawking at his hand.  
“Is this…mmm… is this the One Ring, man? Are you sure?” his voice sounded very mistrustful. “You told me it was precious, but I see only some simple variant of golden ring, a stupid trinket!” he suddenly gripped his sword and tilted his head menacingly. “You want to cheat me, don’t you?” he shouted irritated.  
The man in hat fell on his knees in front of the enraged Elven King and begged.  
“No, no, Your Majesty, please! That is the original, genuine magical One Ring!”  
Thranduil heard the word magical and leaned forward to the man.  
“What’s so magical about that simply looking thing?”  
The man got up and bent to his ear starting to whisper.  
Thranduil felt his lips stretching in devilish grin as soon as he had found out the secret of the ring. He imagined Thorin’s open mouth once that one would realize he’d been cheated so deftly and he’d never know who stole all his things.  
The Elven King chuckled slyly; he only has to wait until it gets dark.

***  
The Dwarf King locked the door of the treasure hoard and put the key on the chain around his neck.  
Another day was over and tomorrow Thorin was going to spend all his time amongst his precious things. All these teeming golden coins, and cups, and bowls of silver and gold, gems, and jewelry, ah! All these things were Thorin’s life he couldn’t do without.  
That’s good he didn’t yield to Bard’s and Thranduil’s persuasions to share gold with them. No, all this was only his and his alone to the last coin by the right of Durin.  
He was thinking of his treasures all the way long and fell asleep in his bed with the same thoughts, holding the key in his hand.  
The night was silent and calm and the atmosphere in the Dwarf King’s room was the same.  
And that was a proper time for the Elven King to appear. And so he stepped into Thorin’s chamber very quietly. Before that, of course, he had wandered a little along the endless passages of the mountain, but then finally found the royal bedroom.  
It was dark but Thranduil’s eyes caught the sight of the Dwarf King’s sleeping shape in his bed covered with blanket.  
The Elven King tiptoed to him and bent forward listening to his even breath to make sure the dwarf was fast asleep.  
Thorin was napping like a baby with his key clasped in his hand.  
Thranduil frowned.  
“That will be much harder than I planned.” Thought he and meanwhile pulled the blanket off from Thorin.  
That one fidgeted uneasily and lay down on his belly.  
The Elven King gazed at his taut naked butt and his tanned strong back and wide shoulders and felt as some weird feeling seized him.  
He found himself stepping forward unexpectedly and climbed onto his bed.  
Now Thranduil could see the dwarf better and his hand touched his body and started to fondle it.  
Thorin has mumbled something in his sleep but stayed still.  
Thranduil continued to stroke his warm buttocks feeling his own flesh getting hardened and heart started to pound loudly.  
Perhaps some of his touches tickled the dwarf too much and Thorin threw his hand off and turned directly to him.  
Thranduil held his breath, the Dwarf King’s erected cock turned to be pressed against his navel.  
And yes, DAMN it! It was SO extremely pleasant to feel it right there!  
The Elven King forgot about everything in the world, even about the key that was on the pillow now betwixt them.  
His hand went down and he wrapped it around the dwarf’s hard cock.  
Shivers ran down his spine once he rubbed it against his excited fellow.  
That’s a miracle Thorin remained still asleep while Thranduil was amusing himself with such things.  
A quite crazy and bold idea visited elven mind and Thranduil understood he’s ready to take his chance.  
He pushed Thorin a little aside and let him fall on his back.  
The Dwarf King was snoring as if nothing has happened.  
So the Elven King took off his clothes quick, and saddled Thorin.  
He began moving fast with jerks constantly increasing the range of motion until he felt that terrific sensation when a giant hot wave covered him totally and he was no longer able to endure it and came.  
And his shot was so sudden and so strong that it sprinkled Thorin’s hairy breast all over thickly and even reached his lips.  
The moment it happened the Dwarf King awoke.  
He was infuriated and roared like a lion though he not understood a single thing but felt something amiss and tried to push away the invisible thing that possessed him and desecrated his body.  
“What’s the hell is going on there?”  
Being still in his bliss Thranduil tried to recover himself and yanked the chain with the key to him. The chain was torn and the key fell into his hand.  
The Dwarf King understood that he was fooled. While he was struggling with the invisible opponent that one stole his key.  
“Give it back!” he shouted menacingly having caught the stranger’s leg that was the only thing he could felt in total darkness and tried to seize his treasure.  
But the thief turned to be hugely adroit. He dodged out and slipped under the Dwarf King rushing to the door. In a second he disappeared in unknown direction.  
Thorin growled in ire and threw the blanket away onto the floor. His eyes suddenly noticed the silver robe and silky breeches on the bed.  
“All right, Your Majesty! Two can play that game!” he uttered in formidable tone and wiped elven cum off his breast with Thranduil’s clothes.

***  
In the meantime the Elven King was half a way to his palace. He was cantering like a racing stallion, full of energy; being happy he could escape so swiftly and managed to fool the Dwarf King.  
He found some dirty fabric in the forest to wrap it about his waist because he made his tracks so fast he couldn’t manage to take his things. He still was invisible and forgot that no one sees his nakedness because his mind and body was still overwhelmed with light euphoria.  
But now he had the key to Thorin’s treasure hoard. And that was a success!  
Thranduil was trotting fast using the secret paths through the woods, thinking about the hot bath and some relax after such funny adventure.  
He got to know that it was the craziest idea he ever had but he did like how the things turned out. The only thing he thought of all the time was the thing the Dwarf King didn’t come.  
“He wouldn’t be so angry if he did it,” thought he. “I bet he would like it as well if he only tried.”  
He spoke to himself that way being so sure of his own words that no one could convince him otherwise.  
“Well, anyway I have the key to his secret treasure hoard and that means I can use the ring again and sneak into this place whenever I want and take whatever I like. Even the thing I could never dream of before...” he stopped for a moment and pondered on this matter. “And what is that I’ve never dreamed of before?” His eyes were examining his slim fingers decorated with numerous rings. “Perhaps there are many of them, crowns and other precious bagatelles…mmm…and this place, it must be big!” He thought, and his eyes burnt with eager desire, but then quenched suddenly. His face became sour once he remembered his own small treasure chamber of modest sizes and then imagined the Dwarf King’s one.  
But then his hand dived into his pocket and squeezed the cold metal piece, the key to dwarvish treasure hoard.  
“Thranduil, my dear fellow, you’ve got that lucky ticket!” he praised himself and winked amorously at himself.  
Although many hours have passed, and finally the dawn has broken, the Elven King didn’t notice how quickly he reached his palace being busy with thoughts all his way.  
***  
So Thranduil’s early morning started from the bath, exactly the way he wanted it to begin.  
He removed the ring at last and was astonished a lot as he found himself wearing old disgusting rags. The Elven King threw it out with utter aversion.  
He relaxed in warm water, closed his eyes and tried to dream about something pleasant. But whatever he was dreaming of, his thoughts constantly returned to his cumming story and the way it happened.  
The Elven King memorized this hot exciting sensation of Thorin’s thick and hard cock inside of him. That was unbearably ravishing and he wished to experience that damn seductive thing again.  
He was so carried away by his fantasy that seemed to nap a little.  
Only when the water became cold and not so nice to feel, he got out of the bath, and put on his silken robe. He came into his room and began combing his long silver hair in reverie and then somebody suddenly attacked him and tumbled on the bed.  
At first Thranduil yelled loudly and started resisting the assaulter but that man clamped his mouth with his hand and leaned over him.  
“Stop yelling and give my key back!”  
That was Thorin Oakenshield, the man Thranduil was dreaming about literally ten minutes ago.  
The Elven King hushed down gazing at him haunted and then recovered himself and felt his wrath storming inside.  
He pushed Thorin’s hand off and rose on his elbows.  
“You will get nothing from me! Get away!” he made an attempt to push the dwarf from his bed but Thorin didn’t wish to give up and they set a grapple in elven bed.  
Thranduil was kicking and scratching the Dwarf King trying to break free. Thorin’s moves were very adroit and swift.  
The Elven King understood that he needed to distract dwarf’s attention and began screaming for help in such a loud and shrieking voice that Thorin couldn’t find nothing better than to silence that disobedient noisy creature…with his kiss.  
Thranduil ceased resisting immediately, gripped Thorin’s shirt and pulled him in closer.  
The Dwarf King released his lips immediately.  
“Stop yelling like a damsel! I will have to apply force to hush you down!” Warned strictly he. His blue sky eyes were burning in annoyed fire right before Thranduil’s nose.  
But the Elven King seemed not to hear the dwarf as he felt deafened with his own heartbeat that was still thumping aloud in his ears in such a mad rhythm due to Thorin’s hot kiss.  
“No,” he shook his head underneath, so stunned, forcing himself to speak. “I will yell even louder if you won’t kiss me again!”  
Thorin gave him a stern glance and swore hoarsely.  
“Damn you! I won’t kiss you again as it was a foolish idea right from the start! I simply can’t tell what came over me!”  
He was going to get off the Elven King when that one let out a very loud cry.  
“Help! Help me!”  
Thorin held this naughty elf firmly still looking alarmed into his crazy eyes trying to get what he was up to.  
There followed a strong pounding on the royal chamber’s door in a few minutes after. These were Tauriel and Legolas who thrashed at the door severely.  
“Damn you!” cursed Thorin, leaning down to Thranduil’s lips and kissing them.  
“Tell them to go away! Tell you’re all right!” he demanded once they parted for a moment.  
“Are you all right, Your Majesty?” the maiden’s voice was insistent.  
“Ada, open the door!” shouted discomposed Legolas.  
“Tell them what I said!” hissed Thorin formidably and his hand slid between them two and touched Thranduil’s erected flesh.  
The Elven King shuddered and gazed languidly into Thorin’s eyes.  
The Dwarf King kissed him again and rewarded him with strict look.  
“Mmmmm yeah…” mumbled out Thranduil, unwillingly parting with Thorin for a while. “Immmmfucking all right! Go away! I’m fine!” His last words appeared to sound more convincing as the knocking and the voices behind the door have deceased.  
Lying on naked Thranduil and still holding his erected cock Thorin was gawking at his bottomless azure eyes experiencing hugely strange feeling inside.  
His enemy’s eyes were mesmerizing him submitting his will.  
Thorin shook himself and released Thranduil’s cock, but the Elven King didn’t disappear anywhere and was still looking intrigued at him.  
There followed an awkward pause between them for about a minute and then something very, very strange happened to the Dwarf King, once the Elven King lay back on his white pillows and his hair spread in a very attractive way.  
This luring vision was so hot and exciting that Thorin lost his mind totally.  
He pounced on the Elven King all of a sudden parted his thighs and thrust in him.  
Thranduil gasped out loud and arched to Thorin’s side. He was caught off guard with such dwarf’s agility.  
Seems Thorin’s reason failed him utterly as he was no longer master to his consciousness. He was fucking the Elven King so vigorously and so unbearably sweet that Thranduil started to moan and panted for air.  
His cheeks were all of a shamefaced glow and his body was burning in passionate agony in Thorin’s skillful arms when they were fondling it. Soon he realized that he was ready to come.  
“Thorin! I…I…c’min….!” Moaned he as if complaining to him; his mouth opened for gasp.  
The Dwarf King whose loud panting he heard shortly in response cast his glance at crimson Thranduil suffocating in pleasure.  
“Seems I’m cumming….too…” Thorin puffed out with effort, he was sweat and fatigued. He groaned, screwed his eyes up, and finally came as well.  
The Dwarf King fell like the shot one on Thranduil’s wet chest and blurted out tiredly.  
“I’m driven to extremity because of you!”  
Two minutes later he fell asleep on the place he landed, right on the top of the Elven King.  
Obviously, Thranduil wanted to tell him something but he passed out in a second like Thorin did.  
The both kings had slept about four hours and then Thorin woke up from loud plangent sighs of Thranduil above his ear.  
The Elven King was stroking his black shaggy hair affectionately and was sighing in pleasant bliss. He never felt so happy in his life.  
Thorin raised his head and glanced into Thranduil’s enamored eyes.  
That one was beholding him very calmly and tenderly.  
“I need to go home.” The Dwarf King said, watching Thranduil’s eyes becoming sadder.  
“I see.” The Elven King answered dryly.  
Thorin’s hand stretched to his cheek and then suddenly stopped before it.  
“May I have my key back?” he wondered.  
Thranduil cast down his quenched azure eyes and uttered apathetically.  
“It’s in the box on the fireplace.”  
Thorin nodded.  
“Thank you.” He said and got up from the bed dressing himself fussily.  
Thranduil turned away from the Dwarf King not wishing to behold him any longer.  
Thorin approached the white fireplace and there on the shelf was a wooden box with jewelry in it. A faded scarlet rose and a locket with a portrait of a beautiful fair lady looking a lot like Thranduil, his sister or his relative probably and among them laid the key to Erebor’s treasure hoard.  
The Dwarf King put all the things he took out from the box back again and closed it.  
No longer lingering, he left the Elven King Thranduil’s chamber.

***  
Since their meeting only three days passed but for Thranduil it seemed an eternity. All that time he was devouring his heart thinking of the Dwarf King.   
That dwarf wounded his soul deeply and the Elven King fell hard for him.  
Nothing could distract his mind from these obsessive thoughts and in search of decision Thranduil opened his jewelry box to dip in his memories.  
A gasp of surprise escaped from him once he found out Thorin’s key in the middle of his stuff.  
“What the…” he stammered over a word and yanked out the key quickly, and then rushed out from his room.  
Ten minutes later his horse was galloping headlong to Erebor’s direction.  
And two hours later he reached his aim at last.  
Breathless and exhausted from the two hours hastened ride he got off his horse and walked up wobbling to the gate.  
“Thorin! Thorin!” he started hammering his fists against the wooden door.  
The Dwarf King, who earlier noticed from the balcony the Elven King’s arrival, came down.  
He opened the gate and looked at the flustered, out of breath Thranduil.  
“What is it?” he wondered curiously.  
Thranduil wanted to reply to him but all his thoughts suddenly mixed up in his head once he remembered their ardent merge. He got pale first, then got crimson and finally looked down in confusion.  
His hand fumbled Thorin’s key in his pocket but he took out the tickets he won in “Sauron’s café”.  
He showed the tickets to the Dwarf King.  
“No way! I said there are no excursions inside the mountain.” announced Thorin strictly and then softened his voice. “Is that the reason why you are here?”  
Thranduil understood that Thorin has already revealed underlying reason, and took out the key.  
“You forgot this.” He said, avoiding looking at him and turned crimson like a cherry. “Take it, it’s yours…”  
Thorin thrust his hand out towards his key and heard Thranduil continued his anguished speaking. “So good it was… I never felt so happy in my life…so forgive me for my feelings…and I must go away…”  
Thorin’s warm fingers touched the Elven King’s pale hand and held it tight. He laughed heartily at his words and then uttered opening the gate wider.  
“C’min!”


End file.
